Tell me something
by Loveforthestory
Summary: "She doesn't look away. She doesn't step back. She doesn't deny anything. She is slowly reducing the space between them to an almost non existing idea."


Chapter 1.

Him.

When Charlie pulls out her gun from the waistband of her jeans and points it directly at Duncan fucking Page without blinking, _just like Miles would do,_ he is not sure he wants to kill or fuck her.

Even with the start of a hard-on, a smirking ex girlfriend in front of him and his kid standing right next to him in Gould's casino in New fucking Vegas, it is impossible to ignore her deadly Matheson smirk.

'Hold up..Charlie...dammit...' Bass turns towards her, irritated with the fact she is able to make an already tense situation worse in less than five seconds.

She doesn't even look at him. He feels deep irritation in his veins and a bolt of lust pumping through his cock.

When he finally gets her to lower her gun and Duncan to hear him out, Bass can feel tensed focussed anger radiate off Charlie. His eyes are meeting hers for one second and he can see all hell about to break lose in her eyes. Connor is standing right behind her.

After Duncan tells him he will get five minutes, she looks from him to Charlie. 'Your bitch can wait outside with him.' Duncan nods to Connor and her.

Bass can see Connor's annoyance. He can almost taste the loathing in Charlie's eyes. He tries to find her eyes again. But this time, she won't let him in.

He wants to tell her they have no fucking choice. She just aimed her fucking gun at Duncan Page. They need men. From her. She can't be here now.

When he follows Duncan to her tent, it is the image of her walking away from him with his damn kid that ignites the start of rage from within. Because when Charlie is walking into the opposite direction Connor is close. Too close.

She is grinning at Connor and fucking hell, his kid is obviously trying to impress her with that stupid _let's see if I can fuck her tonight_ grin on his face. He should be proud. He isn't. He tells himself to stop thinking about her and focus on getting those men they need.

One hour, a lot of talking and charming his way through their negotiations and the promise of five men from Duncan later, Bass finds them in one of the tents. Drinking. Talking. Sitting shoulder to shoulder.

And he knows women. So he knows what he is looking at. And he has no idea in hell what _she_ is doing with _his_ kid, his kid with Monroe blood in his veins she claims to hate so much, but he knows it is pissing him off.

Tension is in his jaws. He tries to swallow the sharp edges of his rage away. He joins them. Orders a drink. Sits down next to her. Ignores how her leg is touching Connor's when they are sitting next to each other.

And when he fills them in on Duncan's terms with a much needed drink in his damn hands, he is meeting her eyes. She looks at him and he can't look the hell away. But here's the thing. She can't look away from him either.

Some brunette walks over to them, her attention aimed at Connor. When she casually puts her hand on Connor's arm and Connor finally moves his attention from Charlie to her, Bass feels shit he shouldn't.

Connor gets up from his place at the bar. 'I guess I'll meet you guys later.' Connor smirks.

'I guess so.' Charlie's looks at the way the brunette is pressing her tits against Connor's arm with her drink in her hand.

'Let's get out of here.' Bass grunts, when Connor is out of sight.

A silent nod is all he gets. Outside, they pass some more whores that are trying to get his attention. She doesn't talk. His mind keeps on swirling around the same thing. _Her._

He walks next to her. She is close enough for her leather jacket to brush his. When they reach their wagon she collects some wood and he starts a fire. When she is about to grab something from her pack, he stops her.

'So tell me something...if you hate me that fucking much Charlotte..why are you flirting with my kid?'

He watches how she stops and tilts her head to meet his eyes. He knows he should have kept his mouth shut about this. But he fucking can't. A bar filled with men. And she' sat there. Smiling. Next to a Monroe. _His kid._

Her eyes fill with stubborn pissed off blue. But there is something in her eyes, in her breath, in her whole body that screams that he is on to something.

A quick smirk filled with hot satisfaction of knowing he is right, appears around his mouth. He can see it in the way her breathing accelerates and in the way the blue in her eyes changes slightly.

He expects her to tell him he is delusional. To tell him to go to hell. She doesn't. She doesn't look away. She doesn't step back. She doesn't deny anything. She is slowly reducing the space between them to an almost non existing idea.

'Tell me something, Monroe.' She leans in, close enough to let her breath touch his face. 'Why do you care so much.'

It is the danger of her getting too fucking close to the raw truth that makes him yank her close in one heartbeat. His mouth shuts her up. His dick twitches in his damn pants, throbbing against the fabric of his jeans, when he finally tastes her.

He wants her to tell him to go to hell. He wants her to push him away with biting words. He wants her to try to kill him. Right here and now. _Again_.

Here in New Vegas where he came after the Tower to erase himself. To erase who he was in misery and fighting and booze and whores. Right here where she found him and almost managed to kill what was left of him.

But she doesn't. There is an angry breath escaping from her mouth when she adds more pressure to the angry clashing of their mouths. Her mouth stays on his. With an arm around her back he pushes her to the ground, covering her body with his. She bites his bottom lip until they both can taste his blood.

When he opens his pants to free his cock, her fingers entangle with his. He feels the heat of her skin against the side of his balls. He keeps her in one place with his thighs against her body. He roughly opens her damn pants and she looks at him with lust and challenge and blue anger that makes him forget everything else.

He just knows he needs to fuck her.

He pushes her pants out of the damn way. She yanks his down his thighs, far enough to get what she wants. Her mouth is close to his ear when he moves his dick between her thighs. Her mouth refuses to meet his. He just stares into blue that makes his dick throb again.

When he slides into her in one focussed thrust he has no choice but to close his eyes. He can't hold back a groan when he hears how her deep moan fills his the air around him.

It is everything unsaid between the both of them from all those months since they had left New Vegas behind, that makes him take her with a forceful rhythm. The way her hips meet his thighs every time he buries himself deeper inside of her, tells him she needs more. The way she opens her eyes to look at him tells him she needs to know it is him that is fucking her with eager demanding thrusts.

Her wetness that moves from his cock to his balls and to the soft smooth skin of the inside of her thighs makes him curse. He can taste it, her aching and tensing for release. He can see the hunger in her eyes. When she comes, a violent lustful cry escapes from her lips. The same cry that escapes from her lunges when she yanks a knife into someone's chest in a fight.

It makes him come in hot waves on her belly and with her name pumping through his blood together with the strong rhythm of his heartbeat in his chest. His breath mixes with her soft panting. She looks at him. He feels her thighs tremble while the deep blue of her eyes mixes with his. He has never seen her more alive.

He swallows. 'This isn't over yet Charlotte.' He grunts lowly, her mouth so close to his.

This is the point where she should push him away. This is the point where she should be looking away.

She isn't.

* * *

 **Author's Note Because New Vegas is such an important place for both of them, I decided to write two chapters for this one shot. This first chapter tells the story from Bass' point of view. The second chapter tells the story from Charlie's point of view. Dear Cherlaine, happy birthday! I hope you enjoy your birthday story! Thank you for your prompt. Thank you to Threemagpies for her feedback for this chapter. Love from Love**


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